Jester
Bottomless

Third FloorIt smells like heartbreak, I say, but she only gives me a disturbed look through her watery eyes and running mascara. She never understood my logic. It does. The air smells like fallen rain, and there’s a chill on the breeze I don’t remember from before. It even looks like heartbreak. Look at the thick clouds overhead, how they don’t let any light through them. The way the dark looks so much darker than before, like we just turned off all the lights and our eyes aren’t adjusted yet. Or the way the streetlights look all fuzzed out, like we’ve been crying.Third Floor
You are crying, she says, and I reach a hand up to my wet cheek.  
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Apex Magazine -- Dark SF/Horror SF Webzine. Check it out!
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"Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise"
-the Duchess
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I don't comment to get comments.
I comment if and when I have something semi-intelligent to say about your art. ...which isn't often. Haha.
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"Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise"
-the Duchess
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